Against The Tide
by GekiDasaDaze
Summary: In a world where humans and mutants live in ambiguity and apprehension, Choutarou finds himself drawn into the very world which he fears: There, he discovers friendships, love, and a horrible truth. There's a terrible price for going against the tide.


_Hello __  
So this is gonna be a mutant fic, inspired by YaoiIsLove's Mutant Identification Movement. Not gonna steal her plot, so no worries there.  
This is gonna be completely different… had the idea for about a year or so, but I forgot (yeah, coz I'm cool like that)  
Hehe, so yeah… --glomps Atobe plushie—_

**Title: Against The Tide  
Summary: Eccentric. Strange. Deviant. There's more adjectives in the long list that people call us. But we don't care. We are just people, after all, fighting for our share of the world.  
Characters: Ootori/Ohtori/Otori (who cares anyway? They sound the same XD) Choutarou and Shishido Ryou  
Warnings: **_**Yaoi.**_**  
Pairings: Shishitori, AtoJi, Dirty Pair, SanaYuki, Maruhara, maybe TeFu…  
Genre: Romance/Adventure**

**_ _ _ _ _ _**

**a g a i n s t t h e t i d e**

_Click_.

The PowerPoint image flashed on the board. Almost immediately, soft snickers and a few tired groans filled the classroom. The 40-year old teacher glared at her students, who were too busy trying to muffle their laughter with their hands. The image featured a photo of a man in his mid-twenties, striking a weird pose and puckering his lips to the camera. It would've been normal, like those funny pictures you see on the internet, except for a few factors. For one thing, his skin was electric-blue, which wasn't a very normal skin color for the average human being. Second, his feet were thirty inches of the floor. And that only meant one thing.

"Mutant!" a girl at the front declared, none to quietly. Instantly, the room hushed into a tense silence.

"Correct, Abigail," the teacher said. "Indeed, it is a _mutant_." The way the word rolled off her tongue made it seem like a curse, which was at that moment, not very far from the truth.

"Today, we will be discussing about these… creatures. About their habitat, their history, and everything about them." She paused, as if trying to remember something. "Ah, yes. Before I start, I would just like to confirm if there are any mutants in this class?" she scanned the faces of her students, who were shaking their heads wildly. "Of course. How ignorant of me. If any of you were mutants, you would have been taken by the government right now, correct? Ha-ha." She made another squeaky, high-pitched sound, which to her students might've sounded like a hamster being strangled.

Sensing her class's discomfort, she cleared her throat and moved on. The next slide appeared on the board. It was filled with words, which the professor read out loud. "In the year 1850, archaeologists discovered some drawings in caves which showed humans or beings that seemed to have some uncanny characteristics. For example, this illustration here."

The drawing looked like a man who was jumping over a vast mountain range. At this point, a student laughed.

"Michelle Wallace, a well-known writer, offered an idea about how these beings could have some sort of super ability beyond human capabilities. Of course, during that time people thought she was disillusioned. Ten years later, an Italian scientist by the name of James L'engle began some research on Wallace's idea and came up with a similar theory. His idea too, was rejected by the world. But still, he never stopped his research about the topic until his death. His son, Anthony L'engle, continued his work and finally, he had one proof: a blue lobster. Can anyone explain how L'engle used this animal as an evidence to support his idea?" Silence. "No one?"

The teacher sighed. "Kira."

The brunette shakily stood up. "A-ano… I guess that… um… lobsters weren't… they didn't have a-any blue lobsters before."

"_Yes_, as simple as that. Sit down," she rolled her eyes. "L'engle proposed that the blue lobster was caused by a gene transmutation in the chromosomes. After that, other scientists began to consider his theory and they too, began to do some research," she said. " Year 1900, May twenty-four. Andy Gunn began a profitable magic show in the streets. What did he do?"

Abigail stood up. "He could move objects anyway the audience wanted it to without touching them."

"Correct. In other words, telekinesis. After that, more and more people began to appear with abilities and powers. Some of these include precognition, or the ability to see things disregarding time and physical barriers." Next slide. "During the year 1910, when the appearance of these people was at its peak, the government decided to name them, so they coined the term "mutant". Up to this day, mutants have lived amidst people, however in incredibly small, rare numbers. We have a total of 1,150 estimated mutants in the entire world." Another click. The next slide read: ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES OF MUTANT PRESENCE ON SOCIETY

"Year 1940, Adam Betelgeuse. At a young age of 20, he had the ability to manipulate the element of fire. When numerous fires erupted within his hometown, his neighbors filed a case against the likes of him. The government considered their requests, and ever since that year, mutants were banned from living normal lives and their actions were limited to the level of their capability. However, this law did not serve enough. More and more mutants with even more destructive powers began to appear. One of them caused an earthquake trying to rob a bank and resulted in the death of a thousand civilians. Thus, the government created a law that every person, once he/she reaches the age of eighteen, is to be subjected for inspection for any mutant gene. If confirmed, they are classified into three classes. Can anyone tell me what they are?"

Mikan's hand shot eagerly into the air. "Class A is for mutants who have abilities that are safe for any society. They are free to have any occupation as they wish, with a few exceptions. For identification, they wear a yellow collar. Class B is for mutants with slightly threatening abilities. Most of the jobs are forbidden for them to apply for and they wear a blue collar. The last class is Class C, which is the highest and most dangerous category. Mutants in this classification are highly observed by the government," She sat down calmly, an incredible feat for saying everything in one breath. "Oh, and they wear a red collar."

The teacher beamed at her favorite student. "Excellent, Mikan. Therefore, if you see any person with collars as stated on the board, take caution. These mutants will waste no time hesitating to take a person's life. _They will kill you_. Especially now, when they are more ruthless than ever. The Mutant Control Department is planning to create Concentration Camps for mutants like the Soviet Union and Israel. Personally, what is your opinion on this?"

This time, the teacher ignored the outstretched hands and focused her attention on the silver-haired boy slouched at the back. Clearly, he wasn't listening, and was occupying himself by staring out the window. She clucked her tongue. The boy used to be her best student, but now, he wasn't acting like it. He had been acting strangely ever since last week.

"Ootori Choutaro," she called. He didn't even move. "_Ootori-kun_."

His seatmate had to tap his shoulder for him to realize that he was being called. The boy jerked his head up, blinked awkwardly, and stood up a little too quickly, painfully hitting his hip on the edge of his chair. "I-itai…" he cried, rubbing his side. The classroom erupted into laughter as a blush made its way on Ootori's cheeks. "H-hai sensei?"

She sighed, not bothering to scold him. The boy was pitiful even without her reprimanding him. "What is your opinion regarding the MCD's plans to build Concentration Camps in Japan for mutants?"

"U-um… I think that it's pretty unfair for the m-mutants…" he said, stuttering. "…y'know, just because they have special powers that we don't have, the government takes away their rights. They're people too… and they'll feel lonely when the government takes them away from their loved ones and… and…" All of his classmates were staring at him now like as if he'd just spoken in some kind of alien dialect. '_Did I say something weird…?'_

_Riiiiiiiing._

The bell signaled the end of classes for the day, and the teacher said something about a quiz tomorrow. Choutarou breathed a sigh of relief, watching silently as the majority of his classmates shuffled out of their seats and headed outside. When he was sure he was alone, he turned and began stuffing his books into his bag. He felt awful, but not in a sick kind of way. More like how a kid feels when he abruptly hits puberty. Choutarou didn't know when it started, but then he suddenly felt different somehow. Something… some part inside of him was changing—fast. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling, either. But the worst thing was that he didn't know what the _heck_ it was.

After he was finished packing up, he left the classroom and headed home from school. He was used to spending his time alone. Yes, he had friends, but lately, they seemed to grow more and more distant. Probably because he was the only guy in his group of friends who didn't have a girlfriend yet, and in their school, people like him were generally called "losers."

"Yo, _Ootori-kun_," called a voice mockingly in front of him. Choutarou looked up and recognized the four faces from his class. They were big, tall, and had ugly facial hair. People like these were generally called "bullies." "What's wrong with ya man? You sick or somethin'? Any allergies? If you need some plastic bags to puke on, I got some." Boisterous laughter.

Choutarou rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but no thanks, Ken." He walked right past them, not slowing down.

A hand roughly grabbed his arm. "Wait, where ya goin'?"

"Home." He tried to wrench his arm out of his iron grip, but it was futile. Several more calloused hands grabbed at him, jerked his backpack away, and slipped his wallet out from his pocket.

"H-hey! Give that back!" he demanded, twisting his body wildly. All he got was more laughter.

Ken leered at him, his face inches from his that Choutarou could smell his horrible garlic breath. "Mikan's got her eyes on you, y'know? And I don't like it. Not one bit."

'_Mikan? Oh, yeah,'_ Choutarou thought. _'His nerd of a girlfriend.'_

"Oh? Well then you've got nothing to worry about. She's all yours," he bit out. He rarely showed this aggressive side of him, only when he was threatened or extremely pissed. "Give me back my wallet. Please." The whole 'please' thing ruined the entire hostile effect, and the *pigs* began snickering again.

"I'll give it to you, sure thing," he said. "But first, I wanna play a game." His lips twitched upwards into a michevious smirk. "Ever heard of the Piñata Party Game?"

_Oh, great._

"Well, whether you know it or not, we're playing," his friends threw him a grubby baseball bat. "And guess what, Einstein? _You're_ the Piñata."

Finally, they let him go, and he staggered forward at his sudden release. Whipping around, Choutarou wasn't surprised to find them surrounding him, baseball bat in hand. Ken was in the lead, sneering gleefully, as he smacked the face of the bat repeatedly against his palm.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, stepping back.

For a moment, he stopped advancing. Then he grinned. "It's' fun watching you squirm."

Then he lifted the bat, ready to swing it down onto a silver head—

—Choutarou hands flew in front of him in an impulse, heart racing, fear overwhelming his system—

_Thud._

He looked up in surprise. No pain. That meant…

Glancing down, he saw the baseball bat lying on the floor, with Ken trying to heave up the suddenly heavy thing of the ground.

"Wha—?" his sweaty, pimple-marred face scrunched in confusion. Choutarou was just as befuddled. Why did it become so heavy all of a sudden? And why did he have a feeling that _he himself _ was the reason?

"Don't just stand there, dimwits!" Ken growled. "Get 'im!"

The three of them lumbered toward Choutarou, still holding their bats. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his bag. One of them swung the bat down over his head, but he ducked just in time. Choutarou picked himself up from the floor and ran as fast as he could.

_Thump-thump-thump. _Heavy footsteps followed him; they were getting nearer and nearer. He ran forward blindly, cutting through empty corridors, until he was out of the building. Not bothering to catch his breath, he sprinted out of the school gates and into the empty street. Behind him, he could hear Ken shouting incoherently, the sound making Choutarou increase his pace. He turned to a corner. And skidded to a halt.

"Crap."

It was a dead end.

He felt a hand roughly yank his shirt from behind. "Ha! Got ya now!" Ken said, finally abandoning his bat. "You know, this kinda reminds me of some cliché movie, where the hero gets cornered into a dead end, and the bad guy beats him into a pulp." He sneered, showing yellow teeth.

Choutarou stepped backwards, and his elbow hit concrete. He was a dead man.

"I don't know how you did that to my bat back there—"he detected a faint tremor in his voice, but it was gone just as instantly as it appeared. "—but whatever trick it was, it ain't workin' on us no more."

There it was again. That weird _feeling_.

"Do the honors," Ken grinned to his companions. "And make it—"

"AGHHH!"

Ken belted around. His friends were on their knees, eyes wide open, shock evident on their faces. And on the floor, pooled around their bodies, were the bats.

_Melted_.

"How… how did…" Ken rambled in shock. He turned to Ootori. "What are you?"

"I d-didn't… I didn't do that, I swear," he said. His hands trembled and shook, just as if they'd been electrified. He held them in front of his face, and his fingers twitched incongruously.

"What's all the noise about?" boomed a voice. Behind them, a police officer stood disapprovingly beside the three students. He glanced down at the brown puddle. "And what in Kami's name is this?"

"S-s-sir! We didn't do it! It's him!" Ken pointed at Choutarou. "He 'as this some kind of power. He's a freak, sir. Arrest him!" And with that, he scurried of with his companions.

That left Choutarou, the cop, and the brown muck alone on the empty street.

"Sir, I didn't do anything I—"he began, but the officer cut him off.

"That was really cool, what you did back there," the cop suddenly said, a smile gracing his lips. "Melting baseball bats. Man, that was off the hook!"

Choutarou blinked. It was as if the cop transformed into a completely different person. He was smiling, his shoulders relaxed, positioned in an almost casual way.

"S-sir?"

He approached Choutarou, footsteps silently echoing against the walls. "How'd you do that, huh?"

"I didn't to that, I swear—"

"Then who did?" The cop said, now standing directly in front of him. "Those friends of yours don't seem like they have any idea of what happened." He grinned. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You did it, Choutarou Ootori-kun."

Choutarou gaped. "H-how did…"

"How do I know your name?" thin lips curved upwards. "Oh, I know a lot of things. And right now, I know that you and I are not so different."

The officer backed him up against the wall. "Now, would you care to show that to me again?"

Suddenly, a hand materialized between them, as if out of nowhere.

"Niou, stop," said the voice. It was silky smooth, like wind gently caressing the surface of the sea. "You're scaring him."

The voice came from a woman. Dark, burgundy hair cascaded down in waves, framing a pale face that greatly contrasted green eyes. She was tall, slim, and she wore tight leather jeans and a soft, balloon-shaped top.

"God, change back already. Of all the people you could've transformed into, it had to be some old police officer," she said.

''_Niou"_ pouted. "Cops are cool, and it's not like I can be them every day you know. Kill joy."

Choutarou watched, stunned, as black hair blossomed into pallid spikes, dark skin melding into a smoother, tanned complexion, and arms and legs thinned and eyes grew more defined.

"Konnichiwa, Ootori-kun," she smiled. "I'm Eve, and this is Niou," she gestured towards the newly-transformed person beside her. "We're your friends now."

Although the words lacked any real sense, (because you can't simply announce being friends with someone whom you've just met) Choutarou felt as if everything she was saying was true, like Eve was someone whom he could trust.

"You and me; we are similar," Eve declared with a honeyed voice. "You are special. But the world out there will say otherwise. They will despise you. They will hurt you in ways you can never imagine. But we'll protect you from them. It's a promise."

Something was prodding at Choutarou's head, but Eve's sugary voice swept all his doubts away. He felt as if he was drowning in a haze of white, like his senses were being sucked out of him.

"Look at me," she commanded gently. "Your powers are a gift, and we'll help you use it for something worthwhile." She took his hand in his, and Choutarou felt his knees begin to buckle. "Join us."

"I…" he faltered. His thoughts were a mess; he couldn't think straight. This woman… what was her name again? Eve…? Right, it was Eve. And… this Niou person… wasn't he a cop? But then…

_Say yes, Ootori-kun…_

He suddenly looked different now…

_You're special… like us…_

… Why did it feel like there was something inside his head?

"I…"

Her voice… it was invading his thoughts, jumbling up all his senses. He was sure of it.

"Eve, what's taking so long?" Niou complained.

"H-he's struggling. Much stronger than I thought," Eve replied, sweat beading on her forehead.

_Just say yes, Ootori-kun. You're a part of us now. Let us use you._

Her voice made it hard to think. He was starting to give in…

"OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! Moeruze BURNING!"

There was another ear-splitting yell. A loud crash; a flash of white. Choutarou found himself suddenly jerked free from Eve's grasp, as his senses came crashing down on him all at once. He could think again, he could hear again, and he could see again. But before he could even take in his surroundings, someone grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out into the empty driveway.

"Who are you?" he wanted to ask, but he couldn't, because right when he was about to open his mouth, a shower of bricks came raining over them.

"Taka, are you trying to kill us?" the man who was gripping his wrist shouted, and Choutarou noted how husky his voice sounded. To him, he turned his face. "Cover your head!"

"GOMEN, BABY! LEAVE THIS ONE TO ME!"

He heard to shrieks of terror behind, but didn't dare look back. Finally he found his voice. "A-anou… who-who are you?"

The shorter man ducked as a red brick hurtled down beside him. "Doesn't matter right now," he panted, adjusting his cap with his free hand. "But right now, we really gotta go, so when I order you to do something, you do it, hear me?"

Choutarou nodded, figuring that anywhere with this man was much _much_ better than running away from a weird-talking lady and a shower of concrete bricks.

"_Run!_ And don't stop!"

So, he did.

_ _ _ _ _

_Yosh! Finally done with the first chappie ^ ^  
So, how'd it go? The next chapter's gonna explain everything and hopefully, introduce the other characters…  
Review? I'd love hearing your opinions! I'm always looking for a chance to improve my writing _

_Thanks for reading!_

_-runs off and glomps Atobe plushie-_


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